Rouge
by Sally Borris
Summary: The story of the Phantom of the Opera told through Rouge's eyes.
1. Prologue

**This is my first ever Fanfiction. Sorry if isn't that good, but I wrote it and thought it was a shame to waste it. Please read it and I'd appreciate any feedback, even negative.**

**Thank you for reading.**

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><p>Rouge wandered around the forgotten building. This had always been her home, always. The master had always been her, until he disappeared.<p>

Where was he now? This was when she needed him. Because of what she was, she could not control people like the master could. All she wanted was for the people to leave.

A massive poster appeared in front of her. It had an elephant on it. She hated elephants. She had never forgotten the incident during Hannibal when the elephant had nearly killed her. She hated elephants. The poster was sold to him. The man that had caused her master such misery.

As she sat through the next insignificant item, she realised that she knew exactly what was going on. No-one knew she did, who would expect her to? She couldn't even speak, but she knew. And she knew that it was Christine who had hurt her master so badly that he left for America, never to return. She would be with him soon, somehow. Something about the Master turned her thoughts into inexplicable whirls of emotion. Something about the Master made her feel at home. She needed him back.

Just as she was caught up in these thoughts, she realised that the auction had carried on without her knowledge and arrived at the item that she had been waiting for.

"Lot 665, ladies and gentlemen: a papier-mache musical box, in the shape of a barrel-organ. Attached, the figure of a monkey in Persian robes playing the cymbals.  
>This item, discovered in the vaults of the theatre, still in working order."<p>

Rouge had woken up everyday of her life to the sound of that monkey. The sound of the musical box playing made all the memories come flooding back.

She watched intently from her favourite hiding place at the side of the stage behind the curtain as the bidding war ensued. Madame Giry was one of the bidders. She was Rouge's only friend now. Rouge was far from beautiful, she had lost a leg in an accident and people looked at her in disgust, the Master had loved her though. Thinking of him brought back the feel of his hand on her red hair, his kiss on her little head. He understood her pain. The other bidder was him, again: Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny. And yet again, he won. Rouge watched with shining eyes as he took hold of the box in his withered hands.

As he gazed at it in child-like wonder, Rouge saw his lips move ever so slightly, as if he was murmuring to himself. The emotion in his eyes calmed the anger in hers. He was nothing but a defenceless old man in a wheelchair now. Not like he had once been.

The auctioneer had now moved onto the next item. Just as Rouge was hobbling away, she heard the words that meant more to her than anything in the world: "The Phantom of the Opera." She peeked out from behind the curtain and, for the first time in 10 years, layed eyes on the grand wreckage that was the shattered chandelier. She could sense the fear behind the auctioneer's words, she knew that he thought there may be some remnants of the Phantom in the Opera Garnier. The Master had never been the object of anything but fear. But Rouge knew there was nothing to be scared of. The chandelier was merely a token of his love for his muse, Christine Daae.

Rouge loved him...


	2. Hannibal

**Hello again. I am so very sorry that I haven't written in so long. There has been a lot going on in the past year or so that has kept me from working on my writing, but hopefully, I will be able to sort some new material out. Thank you so much to everyone who has expressed support for the first chapter of this story and even if there is only one of you out there who truly is hooked into this story, I would like to continue it and hopefully finish it. I will try to upload as much as I can to make up for lost time, but I won't make any promises. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the next installment.**

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><p>Hannibal. What a magnificent spectacle. She loved it, even if it was not written by the Master.<p>

Rouge was sat in one of the seats intended for the general audience, in the stalls. She could see everything from here, and no-one took any notice of her.

"This trophy from our saviours, from our saviours,  
>from the enslaving force of Rome"<p>

Carlotta could sing. The Master detested her, but Rouge had more time for her. She knew that things had happened in La Carlotta's life to encourage her to evolve into the heartless, merciless diva that she now appeared to be. She had to be like that. Everybody has a defence mechanism because everybody has been hurt before. The Master should know that better than anyone.

Rouge quite liked Piangi as well. If she walked past, he would normally give her a quick smile, quick enough for nobody else to see, but slow enough for her to acknowledge it. And he was certainly very talented. His voice could be heard for miles around. There was a reason that La Carlotta and Monsieur Ubaldo Piangi were the principal singers at the Opera.

Rouge sensed that the performance had been interupted. Thankfully, this was only a rehearsal but the company did not have much time to finish it. Lefevre was there, which wasn't a surprise, but he was talking to two men who Rouge had never seen before, and she knew all of the visitors to the Opera House, even if they didn't know her.

Lefevre attempted to attract the cast's attention: "Ladies and gentlemen, some of you may already, perhaps, have met Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin..." The two men bowed to the crowd, politely.

"I'm sorry, Monsieur Lefevre, we are rehearsing. If you wouldn't mind waiting a moment?" Reyer, as usual, had managed to raise his voice above the scattered sounds coming from the group to voice his concerns. Well, after all, a conductor of an orchestra must be heard at all times.

"My apologies, Monsieur Reyer. Proceed, proceed." Lefevre seemed happy to let the rehearsal continue as he seemed to be trying to impress the two gentlemen.

The rehearsal seemed to be moving along well, when Rouge heard a familiar voice:  
>"You! Christine Daae! Concentrate, girl!"<p>

Madame Giry. She was like a mother to Rouge. As the ballet mistress, she was a motherly figure to many of the girls of the ballet. Rouge had always wanted to take part in the performances, especially the ballet, but she couldn't. Her body had not been made to pirouette alongside the others, and besides, the ballerinas were all so very pretty.

But there was one member of the chorus that stood out from the rest, especially in the eyes of the Master. Christine Daae was the daughter of a famous Swedish violinist and if that wasn't enough to set her aside from the rest, she was extraordinarily beautiful. She didn't seem to be especially talented at anything though. She barely scraped by during practice but there was something of a spark that seemed to glow and make its appearance in her eyes and in the blush of her cheeks when she danced and sung that only a true born musician could ever have. Maybe there was hope for her.

As the performance drew to its glorious climax, Rouge took the moment to make her way to the side of a stage as she sensed that an announcement was to be made.

She was wrapped in so many thoughts. What was it about Miss Daae that the Master found so appealing? Of course, she was beautiful, but there had to be more than that. Sometimes she wished she could tell the Master that it would all be fine, and that one day he would find true love and happiness, but she had been born with a speech impediment. The impediment was that she could not speak. She traipsed along behind the curtain when suddenly she heard a massive rumble and jumped back. She was millimetres away from that horrendous elephant. She was normally more careful than this. She made her way to the side of the curtain, just as Lefevre started to speak:

"Ladies and gentlemen - Madame Giry, thank you - may I have your attention please?"

Nobody within the gathering uttered a word. For reasons unknown, there was a lot of respect for Lefevre in the Opera House.

"As you know, for some weeks there have been rumours of my imminent retirement. I can now tell you that these were all true, and it is my pleasure to introduce to you the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire, Monsieur Richard Firmin and Monsieur Gilles Andre."

The crowd clapped, more to feel the new managers feel welcomed, rather than the fact that they were actually happy about Lefevre leaving. Rouge decided to reserve judgement until she had assessed the character of the two gentlemen.

Lefevre spotted Carlotta fluttering her eyelashes in the sidelines.

"Gentlemen, Signora Carlotta Giudicelli, our leading soprano for five seasons now."

Andre looked suitably impressed and lightly kissed her outstretched hand: "Of course, of course. I have experienced all your greatest roles, Signora."

Lefevre then proceeded to introduce the managers to Signor Piangi. After this, there was a lull in the conversation, until Andre cleared his throat and stepped forward: "If I remember rightly, Elissa has a rather fine aria in Act Three of Hannibal. I wonder, Signora, if, as a personal favour, you would oblige us with a private rendition? Unless, of course, Monsieur Reyer objects... "

Carlotta tried, and failed, to look modest and surprised at the notion of the manager desiring to hear her sing for him: "My manager commands... Monsieur Reyer?"

Reyer sighed: "My diva commands. Will two bars be sufficient introduction?"

Firmin took Carlotta's furs and handed them to Piangi: "Two bars will be quite sufficient."

Reyer took to the piano and after pressing a few keys to check the tuning of the piano, looked up at Carlotta: "Signora?"

Carlotta stared out into the audience: "Maestro?"


End file.
